Of HaloHalo
by Fluff Inc
Summary: It all starts one scorching summer day with rickety old chair, a matchmaking mishap named Horo-Horo, and one of the most wonderful cold desserts in existence [LysJea] First part of the 'Halo-Halo Chronicles' -.-;; Kami-sama, did THAT sound weird or what?


**Author's Notes:** I am sick, it's a Saturday both my parents are in Bacolod, I am wasting my life listening to OPM (currently: _Balisong_ by _Rivermaya_) I cannot consume my chocolate stash (re: sickness… cough, slight fever, and colds;;), and a happy birthday to Patty-_chan_ (May 30) this is for you. I'll make you a MirSan fic when I get a hold of my sanity. To Lor-_chan_ who is suffering from ulcer OR hyper acidity, this is mainly product of my craving for Halo-halo or anything cold/sweet in my current state. The idea of this story is quite far-fetched; you will know what I am talking about when you finish this story… I KNOW it is, but I am sick. Sick people have very overactive imaginations seeming, as they cannot go to Cebu or even watch the advance screening of Harry Potter 3, so excuse me.****

**Of _Halo-Halo_ and Fiancés**

_© Jess-chan****_

**N**o matter what you may think this fic does not focus on the laid-back, henpecked Shaman King, and his poker faced fiancé. This is a about red beans, _ube_ (sweet yam), _pinipig_, _macapuno_ (coconut meat), _leche flan_ (my absolute favorite dessert in existence aside from blueberry cheesecake), milk, and LOTS of ice, the matchmaking disaster named as Horo-Horo and have I mentioned a dowser and his Iron princess?

It was a good day. Horo could tell simply by rocking on the god-forsaken rickety wooden chair that Ren had given him whilst he sat on a proper plastic one, by the soft rhythmic humming of Tamao making him close his eyes bathing fully in her presence, the box full of ice by his left that he kept prodding earning a scold from his sister, and the promise of a good dessert as if blessed by the hands of God Himself, and kissed by Heaven's angels.

It was a good day, indeed.

Until he was presented with a problem, that is.

And a big problem it was. It annoyed him, every: day and night, night and day, through dusk, dawn, midnight and afternoon.

And that was his best friend and his current love life (or lack thereof).

It makes one wonder how Lyserg Diethyl, heartbreaker extraordinaire, rich, all-around nice guy, all-knowing best friend, would prefer stay in the, if not mind-boggling then shocking state of being _single_.

Of course it did not escape Horo's knowledge that his best friend was completely infatuated with _her_.

Yes, _her_.

There was no other term for _her_. For she was an enigma, she was nameless, only a beautiful face to stare at, and worship reverently from afar. Horo believed that she was only a passing face, but his best friend (as stupid as smart as he can be) thought of her to be more.

Every night he would ramble and rant about her. How her silken locks seemed like spun silver against the harsh lighting, how her ruby eyes told him of things. Many things concerning absolutely irrelevant topics, and he would speak of the hidden sadness he saw in those eyes he so loved, her immaculate complexion, which seemed untouched by the sun's rays, staying a milky pale tone.

But most of all Lyserg would praise her full, pink lips. He talked about those strawberry-colored softness as if an artist would pay tribute to his _obra_. He would go one about the way the corners of her mouth would ascend every time Pilika-_chan_ would give her a conspicuous little wink (which he found out later Ren Tao found strangely endearing, he found this fact quite disturbing when Tamao informed him) as she added twice the amount of _leche flan_.

There was this term, his sister made use of. Lovesick, he believed.

Well, then, Horo concluded one day, his best friend was the perfect epitome of the word _lovesick_.

He raved about her perfection but he could never seem to gather enough courage to even say a friggin' word to her. This was what bothered him. He would smile, blush, look pretty, and the she would smile, blush, look pretty and simultaneously both would avert their gazes, feel uncomfortable and then they go their separate places.

Her, to the orphanage she volunteered to help for the summer (Sometimes Pilika's chatty nature can be quite useful) bringing the children the sweet, cold treats they loved so, and him, to the languid life they both shared during summer, of merely consuming Tamao's halo-halo.

Well. Okay, so maybe they did _know_ each other. A _bit_. But hell, it was over a decade ago! And Horo was quite a reasonable man… most of the time anyway. Their story (as Lyserg would call it) was the stuff wicked romantic stories were made of. And he would feel this pang of regret when he would notice his sister and more importantly Tamao sighing and swooning at the historic story that occurred a few summers ago. It made him regret that their love story (if you can call it a love story, that is) wasn't as romantic and sweet as Lyserg's and his princess. But he treasured it anyway.

Maybe it was the fact that the girl was the only prominent childhood friend Lyserg had in the earlier lonely yeas of his life. Maybe it was the fact that on that fateful summer Lyserg developed his love for the treat, or maybe it was the fact that he completely fell in love with her, merely because of the fact that she shared her _halo-halo_ with him and sung a song to brighten his dampen spirits.

He would talk of the games they played, of the meaningful glances. Which made Horo wonder.

Why didn't he even ask of her name?

It was amazing. How he could fall for a girl that he met years ago and not know her name. Well, so maybe he did see her every summer but they only exchanged the standard 'hello's' the occasional 'fine' and 'how are you', and those polite 'goodbyes'. Heck, they didn't even know each other's names! But then there was something in the way they would smile each other and gaze into each other's eyes. This was Tamao's observation. He just thought they were letting their _halo-halos_ melt wastefully.

So that was why we are here in this fateful summer day, with Pilika leaning over the wooden bamboo stand by the roadside fingers drumming noisily the shade of the tree casting shadows, Tamao was absentmindedly arranging plastic jars in some random order her gaze lingering on the metal shaver and as mentioned before Ren Tao in a perfectly good chair while he was in a wobbly one.

But his thoughts were focused on the silent figure that was brooding by the corner fingers absentmindedly fingering the rim of the tall clear glass containing his half finished _halo-halo_, eyes glazed and thoughtful, his mouth a thin line. That was strange. Lyserg was usually cheery when the hours, minutes, and seconds he spent on his sister's _halo-halo_ stand would finally pay. When he would cherish those moments she would lay his eyes against hers,

So, this is where our story begins. Of _halo-halo_, a matchmaking mishap, his best friend, the elusive goddess on earth, a loud irritable Chinese, a sister with her perpetually happy mood, and his serene pink-haired pacifist.

Everything was set.

Silently Horo counted the minutes left 'til four o'clock. She was always on time. And in those minutes Horo planned his greatest (and _only_) matchmaking scheme.

And it proved to be quite disastrous.

****

_**Tsuzuku**_

**Who knows…? I may never get around to continue this… but heck it depends if my craving for sweets gets stronger and I find nothing to do, then _maybe_ I might continue this. Beside I think there's only one or two more chapters left. Peace everyone! Also this link helped me quite a bit: http:www.seasite.niu.edu/Tagalog/TagalogDefaultfiles/PhilippineCulture/halohalo.htm**


End file.
